


In Miniature

by TheSingerThatYouWanted (orphan_account)



Category: IT Crowd
Genre: Angst, I'm very protective of him, M/M, The timeline goes a bit weird, implied abusive relationship?, is that a tag?, it's definitely not a happy relationship that's for sure, it's very flashback-y, richmond needs a hug okay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-02
Updated: 2015-02-02
Packaged: 2018-03-10 06:14:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,320
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3279785
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/TheSingerThatYouWanted
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The story of Richmond's relationship with Denholm, where it went wrong, and how he learned to cope.<br/>Or, if you prefer, the reason why there was a Lego for him to step on that night.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In Miniature

**Author's Note:**

> I just wanted an explanation of why Richmond had legos to be stepping on, then things got a little out of control thanks to some encouragement on Tumblr, and basically the upshot of the whole thing is I am once again awake and writing at odd hours of the night because I have an awful lot of feelings about Richmond Avenal. Enjoy?

Outside the flat the weather was warm and sunny, because it had no sense of dramatic flair. Tears, hot and wet and heart-stoppingly, achingly real, were carving their way through the heavy greasepaint on Richmond’s cheeks. His chest ached with the sheer power of it all. Normally this kind of emotion was something he could use, or at least something he could drown in his music, but this time there was simply too much of it. He couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, couldn’t focus on anything other than the carpet beneath his knees.  
Out of the corner of one eye he caught sight of something glittery and another sob wrenched its way from somewhere deep inside of him. Tears blurring his vision, he felt bile rise in his throat at the sight. With it came a memory, bittersweet and terrible and almost overpowering. He buried his head in his hands, not caring about the mess he was making, and allowed it to wash over him.  
~*~  
It was his first proper day on the job. Richmond wasn’t nervous, or at least, no more than was to be expected. It was strange, though, seeing so many new faces. He didn’t quite know who to speak to, so he simply stayed in the corner and watched in silence until someone approached him. The newcomer was a tall man, with brown hair and a moustache. Richmond recognised him immediately, even before the man was holding out a hand to introduce himself. He’d seen photos of him on the company’s website.  
“Reynholm,” the newcomer said imperiously. “Denholm Reynholm. I own this place.”  
Richmond took the hand with a hesitant smile, shaking it firmly like he’d always been taught. First impressions began with a handshake, after all.  
“Richmond Avenal,” he replied. Denholm nodded his acknowledgement and clicked his fingers once. Out of nowhere somebody appeared holding two cups of coffee. Denholm took one and handed it to Richmond before downing the other in a single gulp. He turned, took it back again, and drank it as well. Once he was finished he gave a firm nod of satisfaction and handed both cups back to the person who had brought them.  
“Thank you, Alan,” he said to the coffee-bearer as they scurried away.  
“Daniel,” protested the man weakly. Denholm ignored him, instead gesturing around the room and putting a heavy arm across Richmond’s shoulders.  
“Whatever. So, Richmond,” he said. “What do you think?”  
“Of what?” asked the blonde man, trying not to let Denholm make him uncomfortable. He’d put up with worse for less.  
“Of this!” came the booming response. “The company, the business.”  
“I like it, I suppose,” he replied hesitantly. Denholm beamed, clapping him a little too hard on the shoulder.  
“Good, because as of tomorrow you’re my right-hand man.”  
“What?”  
Richmond was bewildered, taking a step away and looking up at him in confusion.  
“But it’s only my first day-” he began, stumbling slightly over the words. Denholm wasn’t listening.  
“Excellent, so you’ll start in the morning. Well, goodbye Richard. I do have a company to run, you know.”  
He vanished before Richmond could even try to correct him.  
~*~  
The worst of the tears had subsided now, and Richmond had managed to sit back against the black sofa. He hugged his knees to his chest, breathing deeply and letting himself remember because at least it was easier than trying to forget. There was black and white paint smeared across the backs of his hands from where he’d tried to dry his eyes. He didn’t even want to think about how bad his face looked. It didn’t matter. There would be plenty of time for him to sort that out while he was hiding in his room for the next three days straight, which was exactly what he planned to do. So he closed his eyes, letting the memories fill the hollow ache of his chest.  
~*~  
He’d been staying behind after yet another successful board meeting. Everything had been going remarkably well, and he was having the time of his life. Richmond was just tidying away the last of his papers when Denholm walked in.  
“Ah, Richmond. Just the man I wanted to see.”  
“Oh, hi, Mr Reynholm,” he replied with a smile. “Just finishing up. Was there something you wanted?”  
“Yes. Come with me.”  
Richmond blinked, confused. He’d grown used to working with the older man, but he was still unable to quite predict his reactions to things. Anything could be enough to set him off on one of his rants. So he decided to play it safe, leaving his files scattered on the desk and following Denholm to the door.  
A few moments later the reason was clear. Richmond beamed as he saw the sign on the door, and Denholm laughed at his reaction.  
“Oh, wow, my own office! Thanks, Mr Reynholm, it means a lot,” he said, smiling and looking down at his shoes a little shyly. Denholm’s voice was softer than usual as he looked the shorter man in the eye, and Richmond suddenly felt embarrassed, though he didn’t know why.  
“It was nothing,” Denholm said quietly, moving closer until he was well past the point of respecting personal space. Richmond could feel himself blushing, his shirt suddenly feeling uncomfortably warm and tight.  
“Sir?” he asked. Denholm smiled, looking almost predatory for a moment and leaning impossibly closer.  
“How about we give it a proper initiation?” he murmured, his breath hot against the side of Richmond’s neck. The shorter man shivered, feeling something unidentifiable tugging at the pit of his stomach. He found himself being drawn inexplicably closer to his boss, and when he was lead into the office, Denholm’s hands and mouth beginning to roam, he was the one who reached out to close the door.  
~*~  
He’d been nervous at first, uncertain of whether or not this was something he was supposed to be doing, but there was something strangely magnetic about Denholm. Richmond found he couldn’t stay away. Besides, when he was with the taller man Richmond felt, for the first time in his life, like he was worth something. Denholm looked at him like he was made of purest marble, running his hands and his tongue across every inch of skin until Richmond was begging and desperate, ready to do anything to keep up with the taller man’s insatiable demands if it meant he would be allowed to feel this way just one more time.  
Richmond wouldn’t say he was happy, but he was definitely on some kind of high that didn’t seem to be showing any signs of ending. There was something missing, but every time Denholm’s skilled touch landed on his skin he could forget that for a little while longer. Before the relationship had started Richmond had never been with a man, never even thought about it, but what he didn’t know Denholm had been more than happy to teach him. It was terrifying, yet somehow exhilarating. He was performing better at work, too, which gave Denholm all the more reason to reward him after hours.  
Cradle of Filth had been the final piece of the puzzle. When he’d listened to them for the first time, heard the wonderful chaos of guitars and screaming come flooding through his headphones, it was like something clicked into place. The pain in his chest eased away a little more with every track, and from then on it was easy. Work through the day, meet with Denholm afterwards, then walk home, bruised and aching but somehow satisfied, to Cradle of Filth at the highest possible volume. It helped, somehow. After a while he began to dress differently, and that was when everything started to fall apart even as he’d hoped it would come together.  
~*~  
Richmond pulled himself from his thoughts with an immense effort, forcing himself to stand up. He wandered aimlessly through his small flat until he reached the bathroom. He forced himself to avoid looking in the mirror, instead filling the sink with cold water and splashing some on his face until he felt more like himself. The water stung, but he didn’t care. It was a reminder that he was still alive, despite looking like he’d been dead several long years. He sometimes felt like he had. He walked back into the living room and headed straight for the package he’d noticed earlier, swallowing the lump in his throat as he ripped off the paper furiously. It sparkled. He’d made an effort to find something that sparkled. He hated it.  
It had been a mistake. In a last-ditch attempt to fix things with Denholm he’d bought a present for the older man’s nephew. He was turning seven. Richmond had thought long and hard about what to buy for him, eventually settling on one of the things he remembered enjoying when he was younger. Looking at it now, he wondered briefly if perhaps he should give it to the boy after all before another wave of despair crashed over him and he realised it was useless. He’d already ruined things at work, and the funeral had been the final straw. That day Denholm had taken him aside and told him that from now on he was to work in the IT department and never show his face above ground again. Richmond knew he probably deserved it, but it hurt nonetheless.  
The paper now thrown hastily to one side, the label on the box loudly proclaimed it to be “the ultimate in building-block horror.” The Lego mansion had seemed perfect when Richmond caught sight of it in the shop. He’d almost wanted one for himself. It was huge, and even came with figures; a tiny Dracula and a brown-haired adventurer come to defeat him.  
“Oh, to hell with it,” muttered Richmond sullenly, sitting down and opening the box. What else did he have to lose?  
Truth be told, there was something oddly therapeutic about assembling the bricks. The instructions were pretty clear, and it wasn’t long before the house began to take shape. It was bigger than he’d thought it would be. The tiny Dracula figurine fitted nicely into his hand, and the explorer- with his rumpled suit and tiny, pencil-thin moustache- seemed somehow familiar. He stared at them both for a moment before removing one of the panels and slotting the figures inside. The explorer sat in the master bedroom, right on the top floor. Dracula was sent to the basement.  
~*~  
Before too long it became a sort of ritual. Life behind the red door was lonely, but he’d quickly accepted that the other people working in the department didn’t want to spend time with him. So he did his job, even if he wasn’t quite sure what exactly it was, and when his shifts were over he would hurry home and eagerly sit down with the Lego set. Over time he began to acquire new figures and additions, until there was a large corner of his room devoted to them. He would take them out and walk them around their little world, going on the mundane sort of adventures Richmond craved more than anything.  
Despite his large collection, there were only five figures he really used. The original two- the explorer in his apartment and the Dracula in the basement- were joined by two more men, one with dark hair and one with brown, and a woman. In the small building they befriended their vampire neighbour, taking him with them while they went about their day. After a while he began taking the miniature Dracula with him to work. The figure was small enough that it fitted into his pocket without anyone noticing. Sometimes he would take it out and just hold it. After all, he reasoned, if the Lego vampire could make friends with his colleagues then why should it be so difficult for him to do the same?  
~*~  
Four years had passed since Richmond had first bought the Lego set. Over time his habits had changed. At first the Dracula would try to win back his friend, the explorer, but never to any sort of conclusion. He would simply abandon the figures, leaving them lying on the floor as he sighed and crawled into his bed. That was dangerous, he soon discovered. Given that he was prone to waking up at unusual hours of the night, he often stood on one of the pieces by accident.  
Eventually he began to ignore the explorer, turning his attention more often to the three others in the basement. He liked those better. At the end of every adventure Dracula would return to his room, but Richmond could imagine there was a faint smile on his plastic mouth. Those were the nights he slept easier. The explorer’s attic room began to look less and less desirable, becoming grubby and disused even as the basement started to shine.  
On this particular night, the tiny plastic explorer caught Richmond’s eye for the first time in weeks. He frowned as he picked it up. It was lighter than he remembered it being. Almost absent-mindedly he made his way over to the window, cautiously pulling back the black velvet curtains that shielded him from the sunlight, and peered out. The city streets were dark and empty, almost nobody passing by. Richmond opened the window a crack to check he was remembering correctly and found he was right; there was a drain directly below him. A tiny smirk tugged at his lips.  
Without a moment’s hesitation, he dropped the explorer, listening for the soft splash as it hit the water.  
Richmond walked slowly back over to his Lego mansion. He looked around, almost guiltily, then carefully took hold of the Dracula. Slowly, hesitantly, he moved it forward and into the same room as the other three figures, closing the door behind it.  
For what felt like the first time in four years, Richmond smiled.


End file.
